You'd always thought your boyfriend was absolutely perfect. He bought you snacks, helped you find your way through the woods, spent time with you every day....and just treated you amazingly in general. He was definitely perfect in your eyes.

Until he kidnapped you.

Sure, it was always a bit strange how Alan would always act colder and more distant towards other people, but you assumed he was just anti-social! I mean, the guy lived in a secluded cabin in the woods, he didn't exactly seem like the biggest extrovert ever. You were definitely kicking yourself now for not thinking about all that a little bit more when you first met him.

Your life now was....fine. It wasn't terrific (definitely not), but it wasn't terrible either. Alan's cabin was comfortable enough. He, of course, insisted on sleeping in his bed with you, which wasn't necessarily ideal, but whatever. You just wished he'd stop biting you in his sleep.

A few....months? You weren't really sure, into your captivity, you and Alan somehow ended sitting beside each other on his couch. You definitely weren't talking to him, and he was trying his very best to fix that. Something about his mismatched eyes, his stupid voice, his....everything just drew you in. For just that one moment, you felt the same way you'd felt before he kidnapped you.

Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore. You kissed him, and that eventually turned into....something else. You weren't sure if you regretted it, or if you were mad at yourself for not regretting it. Your eyes landed on his naked, sleeping form still lying on the couch....and then the front door. It was almost too good to be true, but you weren't wasting the one chance you had to get out of there.

However, after a few measly minutes of aimlessly running, the sound of quick footsteps coming from behind reminded you of one thing. Alan had lived in these woods for years. He caught up to you pretty quickly, gripping your wrist with one hand while clutching that godforsaken hatchet of his in the other. His hair was still dishevelled from your....previous activities, but that was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

"....Ya really thought I wouldn't wake up?" Alan's voice sounded low and cracked, his voice hoarse from sleep and the way he'd been groaning your name just a few minutes beforehand. He let out a short, broken laugh that honestly sounded more like a sob.

"I woulda let y'go outside, Doe-Eyes," he whispered, his voice splintering now. "If you just asked. I woulda carried you outside myself. But y'fucked me so ya could escape me?" A single tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn't bother wiping it.

By this point, the hatchet was completely abandoned on the grass due to Alan moving his hand upwards so he could cup your jaw. His thumb traced over your bottom lip, the same lips he was kissing open-mouthed not too long ago. His grip on your wrist had loosened, but not completely.